


All the Best Ideas

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Sharing a Room, Snark, Switching, Tent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:59:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7935454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco’s driving Harry up the wall and they're trapped in a remote location on official Ministry business.  Clearly the only way to make things tolerable is to have sex together.  Repeatedly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Best Ideas

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Written for the BBTP Challenge on Insanejournal.

“You need to get on your knees.”

“I definitely don’t.” Harry pushes his glasses onto his nose. He’s damp from the earlier rain and his hands are smeared with dirt. “ _You_ need to get on your knees.”

“I’m not going through there. For fuck’s sake, Potter. Why can’t you just Apparate to the Manor and knock on the door like everybody else?”

“Because we’re supposed to be undercover, you fucking _arse_.” Harry finally relents and he crouches down, looking at the tunnel. It’s pretty small. He’s not sure he’s going to be able to crawl through there without getting stuck in the middle. “You’re thinner than me, you do it.”

“Not a chance. I’m not crawling through the mud like a street urchin.”

“We’ve been here for nearly a week and we haven’t seen anything. I think we need to get closer.”

“You know what Granger said. Set up camp to the left of the lake just before the forest. She gave us exact coordinates. You can’t just go crawling through tunnels because you haven’t got anything better to do.”

“We have to do something.” Harry peers into the tunnel again and a small spider scuttles past him, disappearing into the darkness. He’s really not fancying going inside.

“No we don’t. We were actually told not to do anything – not unless we see someone taking boxes into the Manor. As soon as that happens, you’re free to charge over there in a heroic fashion and save us all from our untimely deaths.”

Harry frowns up at Malfoy. “Are you taking the piss?”

Malfoy lights a cigarette, the acrid scent of smoke filling Harry’s nostrils as it wafts through the cool night air. “No, Potter. I’m quite serious.”

Harry grits his teeth and stands, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “Put that out.”

Malfoy blows smoke in Harry’s face and smiles sweetly. “Let me guess. You disapprove.”

“I couldn’t give a Hippogriffs scrotum if you want to smoke yourself silly. They’re going to see the cigarette.” Harry jabs his finger towards the house which does look rather far away. Too far to reach by a tunnel which probably doesn’t have any air vents. 

Malfoy sighs and turns his eyes heavenward. “There’s no one there. The lights never come on, the east wing’s in ruins and we haven’t seen anything more threatening than some inquisitive livestock for days. So if it’s all the same to you, tonight I’m going to have a drink and a cigarette.”

“We’re meant to be watching for suspicious behaviour, they could turn up at any-” Harry takes a breath and stares as Malfoy tips his head back and takes a swig from a monogrammed flask. “Is that _booze_?”

“Cognac.” Malfoy waves the flask in Harry’s direction. “Want some?”

“No I bloody well don’t.” Harry folds his arms and looks around the dark fields. He’s cold and he wants his bed. He’s not even sure why they’re still camping out here, watching an empty house. It’s freezing. He wraps his arms around himself and tries not to shiver.

“Cold?” Malfoy sounds pleased, as if Harry’s discomfort is welcome.

“Just a bit.” Harry glares at Malfoy and holds his hand out. “Go on, then. Give us some of that booze.”

“Potter, I’m shocked.” Malfoy hands Harry the flask and smirks. “Cigarette?”

“I’m good.” Harry takes a swig of the liquor and it warms his throat, sliding through his body and taking away some of the night’s chill. He takes another swig, just for good measure before shoving it towards Malfoy. “I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Granger said it would be good for us both to work together on a project. To try to alleviate some tension because you’re annoying everyone at the Ministry barging about the place and swearing whenever you get within three feet of me.”

“Like you’re so much better.” Harry wants to punch Malfoy in the nose, or kick him in the balls. He hasn’t decided which, yet. “Besides, I don’t barge around.”

“Beg to differ.” Malfoy’s closer now and his breath carries the faint scent of liquor. He’s warm and the night’s cold enough that Harry isn’t really inclined to move away. “Just last week you had a tantrum and threw all your files on the floor in the middle of a meeting.”

Harry’s fingers curl into tight fists and he can hardly force his words out he’s so aggravated. “I didn’t have a _tantrum_. You were planning to sell mugs with my _face_ on.”

“Not just your face.” Malfoy turns to Harry, his eyes bright in the watery moonlight. “There’s this rather novel technology Muggles developed where the heat from the liquid reacts to the paint on the ceramic and the picture changes.”

Harry’s jaw works and he stares at Malfoy. “Changes how?”

“I thought it might be quite fun if it just…took you clothes off.” Malfoy waves a hand. 

“So I’d be…”

“Naked, yes.” Malfoy sounds breezy. 

“On a mug.”

“On a mug, yes. Do keep up, Potter.” Harry can’t manage much more than an indignant splutter and Malfoy rolls his eyes. “Oh, calm down. It wouldn’t actually be you. I planned to have a much more attractive body double for the naked bit. Someone less…” Malfoy’s eyes trail over Harry’s torso and up. “Less hairy. I was just going to superimpose your face on the picture. So they’d sell.”

“I swear to Merlin, I’m going to throttle you.” Harry advances closer, his hand on Malfoy’s shirt as he hauls him close. “No naked mugs. No mugs at all. Just stay the bloody hell away from anything to do with my face and ceramic, do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly.” Malfoy licks his lips and pushes Harry back, clearing his throat. He holds out the flask. “More cognac?”

Harry responds with a growl and takes another swig. 

He has a feeling he’s going to need it.

*

“I don’t think Hermione’s plan’s working.” Harry looks gloomily into the darkness and tries to count the stars just for something to do.

“I don’t know. I feel rather relaxed. If anyone here’s behaving like he’s got an enormous broom up his arse, it’s you.”

“Sod off.” The cold is making Harry grumpier than usual, even though the urge to throttle Malfoy has eased. The booze is small compensation for nearly a week in Malfoy’s company. He turns his back on Malfoy and makes his way to their tent. “We’re going home tomorrow. This is pointless. There’s nothing here.”

“Don’t you think we should give it until the end of the week?” 

“What?” Harry turns to see Malfoy’s followed him into the tent like a bad smell. “Bloody hell, Malfoy. Can’t I have a moment to myself?”

“So sorry to disturb your peace and quiet.” Malfoy gives Harry a strange look. He puts his flask on a fastidiously neat pile of folded clothes at the corner of the tent. They’re far too posh for a stakeout. Malfoy really is the most ridiculous prat Harry’s ever had the misfortune to spend time with. “This is my tent too. I don’t want to be outside by myself watching an empty house.”

Harry groans. “Fine, then. Just – look away or something, can you? I’m tired and I need to change.”

“Change into these?” Malfoy holds up Harry’s comfortable flannel pyjamas, a look of disdain on his face. “You’re twenty-something going on ninety.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think to bring my negligee.” Harry presses his lips together, the urge to throttle Malfoy back with a vengeance. “Since when do you care what I wear to bed?”

Malfoy shrugs, his face obscured by the shadows. “I don’t. Let’s just go home tomorrow. You’re right, this is a stupid waste of time.” Malfoy’s tone is clipped and he sounds crosser than usual.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, for fucks sake.” Malfoy undoes the buttons on his shirt and he shifts away from Harry, keeping to his own side of the tent. “Nothing’s going on.”

“I don’t believe you.” The mood in the tent shifts and Harry’s got the strangest feeling he’s upset Malfoy. He doesn’t care, obviously. At least he doesn’t think he does. Malfoy’s always upsetting Harry and never apologises for any of it. Harry reaches out, a tentative hand on Malfoy’s shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Malfoy snaps. “Go to sleep.”

“Fine.” Harry changes into his pyjamas and ignores Malfoy until they’re both settled in bed. “You snore, by the way.”

Malfoy huffs and punches his pillow into a more pleasing shape. He shifts under his sleeping bag, eyeing Harry. “I do not.”

“You do, actually.” Harry grins at Malfoy, an odd warmth creeping over him. Must be the booze. “And you said my name last night.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrow and pink spots bloom on his cheeks. “Now I know you’re lying.”

“Nope. I heard it. _Harry_ , you said.”

“Shut up, Scarhead.” Malfoy closes his eyes and he pulls his sleeping bag up to his chin. “I was probably having a brilliant dream about finally getting away from here. No doubt you showed up and ruined it all.”

Harry laughs and he closes his eyes although he doesn’t feel all that tired anymore. “Night, Malfoy. Sweet dreams.”

“Potter?” Malfoy’s closer now and his breath tickles Harry’s cheek. Harry opens his eyes to find Malfoy staring at him, wide awake. Their faces are barely an inch apart. Malfoy’s fingers are sliding up and down Harry’s arm, finding their way under his pyjama sleeve and stroking slowly until the hairs on Harry’s arm are standing on end and every slow touch feels electric.

“This is creepy.” Harry swallows, because it _is_ creepy but it also actually feels quite nice. Malfoy smells good, like posh cologne, cinnamon and cognac. He’s got a masculine, musky sort of scent. His proximity leaves Harry hot all over which is weird, because Harry could have sworn he didn’t even like Malfoy.

“Is it?” 

“A bit.” Harry brushes Malfoy’s hair back from his face, his voice low. “You’re watching me sleep.”

“No, that’s not exactly it.” Malfoy rolls his eyes. “You weren’t asleep.”

“Not far off.” Harry’s a bit tongue-tied all of a sudden. “What were you doing, then?”

“Trying to stop you from sleeping,” Malfoy says. “Which isn’t creepy at all.”

“Oh,” Harry says. Then, “try harder.” 

Malfoy smirks and he slides the zip on Harry’s sleeping bag open, pushing it to one side and working open the buttons on Harry’s pyjama top. “Is it sinking in yet, Potter?”

“Starting to.” Harry bats away Malfoy’s hand and rolls him over onto his back, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s the first time he’s kissed Malfoy, but if he’s really honest with himself it’s not the first time he’s wanted to. Nobody makes him feel like Malfoy. Nobody’s that bloody annoying, for a start. He opens his mouth to the kiss and cups Malfoy’s chin in his hand, deepening it and urging him closer. Malfoy’s mouth is liquor-sweet and his kisses are hard, searching things. He digs his fingers into Harry’s shoulder and tugs at his hair, murmuring something against Harry’s lips which sounds like _ridiculous._

“Took you long enough. You really are oblivious.” When Harry pulls back to catch his breath, Malfoy looks smug and his eyes are shining. “You’re such a prick, sometimes.”

“You’re the one that wants to wank over me naked on a mug.” Harry isn’t sure that’s true, but it probably is. 

“You wish.” Malfoy snorts and then he’s rolling Harry onto his back, kissing him with renewed fervour. He pushes his leg between Harry’s to give him some friction until they’re rocking and grinding against one another and Harry’s practically panting into Malfoy’s mouth. 

“Should have…done this earlier.” Harry slides his hands down Malfoy’s back and squeezes his backside, pulling him closer against Harry’s aching prick. “Could have…put your mouth to better use.”

A shudder of pleasure travels through the length of Malfoy’s body. “I could have spent the evening fucking you instead of arguing over that bloody tunnel.”

“Who says you’d be doing the fucking?” Harry rolls Malfoy over onto his back and sucks a mark on Malfoy’s neck, just below his ear. Now he’s kissing Malfoy, Harry’s finding it difficult to get enough of him. He pushes his hand under Malfoy’s thin t-shirt and thumbs at his nipple, watching Malfoy arch into his touch.

“Who says I wouldn’t be?” Malfoy pushes Harry back, sitting up and yanking off his t-shirt, his skin pale and nearly translucent in the moonlight. “I’m good at it.”

“So am I.” Harry huffs and he pulls back just enough to stare at Malfoy. God, he looks fucking brilliant when he’s not being a royal pain in Harry’s arse. “Have a lot of sex do you, Malfoy?” An unexpected flash of jealousy curls through Harry. He licks a spot on Malfoy’s collarbone, pressing his tongue flat against it and then sucking at the pale skin until he leaves another mark. He’s got a burning desire all of a sudden to leave marks all over Malfoy’s body – to lick every inch of him and whisper _mine_ against his skin.

“Some. You too, then?” Malfoy’s eyes flash with anger, even as he tips his neck back with a groan. “Bet…I bet it’s one of those Weasleys. The one with the tattoos.”

“Just a hand job one Christmas.” Harry dives back in for another kiss, rocking against Malfoy. He pushes his hand into Malfoy’s pyjamas and wraps his hand around his cock, feeling the pleasing length of him and biting back a moan. “Feels good, Malfoy.”

“Not this year.” Malfoy pushes Harry off him and makes quick work of divesting himself and Harry of their trousers. He’s back on Harry in a moment, rubbing slick fingers through the crease between Harry’s buttocks. “This year you’re coming to mine. We have champagne.”

“Am I?” Harry would laugh but it’s difficult with Malfoy’s fingers rubbing against him because they feel so _good_. He decides the holiday plans can probably wait until after. Right now, he just wants to fuck or be fucked. He’s so horny and the tension from earlier seems to be sliding from his body with every one of Malfoy’s kisses. “Come on, then.” He tangles his hand in Malfoy’s hair and grins at him. “If you’re doing the fucking this time you better get on with it before I change my mind.”

“ _Fuck_.” With a groan, Malfoy pushes a finger inside Harry. He tongues over Harry’s nipples, taking them in his mouth one at a time. He finger fucks Harry slowly, opening him with insistent purpose and nailing Harry’s prostate over and again until Harry thinks he’s going to burst with pleasure.

“Ready…gods, ready…”

“You’re loving this.” Malfoy sounds delighted, his tongue running over the shell of Harry’s ear. “You’re loving having my fingers inside you. You’re so tight. So hot.”

“I’m going to hex your bollocks off if you don’t get on with it,” Harry growls. He pulls Malfoy into another searching kiss and then – finally – arches into the sudden slide of Malfoy’s cock inside him. “Better.”

“Like this?” This time it’s a question, not a smug observation. Malfoy looks down at Harry, his chest dotted with light perspiration. His hair’s all fucked up and Harry’s delighted by it. He nods and reaches a hand into Malfoy’s hair, running his fingers through it and luxuriating in the feel of it between his fingers.

“Yeah, there, just…” Harry shifts and lets out a low cry when Malfoy changes angle and every slide of his cock sends sparks of pleasure through Harry’s body. “Just like that.”

“Close…so close.” Malfoy buries his head in Harry’s neck, his lips hot and damp against Harry’s skin. “Don’t come. Fuck me, after. Will you?”

_Merlin_. It’s almost enough to make Harry come on the spot and he pushes his hand between them, gripping the base of his cock and nodding. It’s about all he can manage, other than grunts and breathy moans of pleasure as Malfoy begins to fuck him in earnest. There’s something almost endearing about the look of determination on Malfoy’s face as he thrusts into Harry with renewed purpose. Every stroke of Malfoy’s cock inside him brings Harry closer and it’s all he can do to hold off and remember the promise of after. He’s kissing Malfoy messily when he shudders into his climax.

“Harry…”

“Yeah…” Harry’s breathless and desperate to come, the sensation of Malfoy inside him still raw and just the right kind of sore. “Hang on, want to get you ready.”

“Use a spell for fucks sake.” With a choked groan, Malfoy reaches for his wand. He pauses before casting the spell, as if looking for approval from Harry. “Okay?”

Harry nods and when Malfoy mutters the familiar spell, Harry gestures to Malfoy to turn over. “Hands and knees.”

Malfoy turns eagerly and gives Harry a look over his shoulder. “You’re not going to last long, are you?”

“I might surprise you.” Harry’s probably not, but he does quite like wiping the smug look off Malfoy’s face. He slides his hand into Malfoy’s hair and then grips his backside, spreading his cheeks open and biting back a groan at the sight of Malfoy open and slick for him. He lets go of Malfoy’s backside for a moment to position himself and then, with a low murmur of Malfoy’s name, he slides inside with one long thrust. 

“Harry.” Malfoy arches his back as Harry tugs on his hair and fucks into him. 

“Good idea of yours, this was. First time for everything.” Harry’s breathless and despite his words his voice is fond and amused. He thrusts into Malfoy, placing kisses on his shoulders and back whenever he can. He takes his pleasure from Malfoy and it’s only when he’s nearly at the edge that he turns Malfoy over and slides out of him for a moment. “Want to…”

Malfoy laughs softly, his eyes dark and his cheeks flushed. His hair is haywire and he looks thoroughly fucked out. “I might have guessed. Fancy a snog, Potter?”

“Bugger off.” Harry kisses Malfoy then, claiming what he wanted because he needs to come and he’s also finding it’s a pretty effective way to shut Malfoy up. He slides back into Draco with one hard thrust which draws a groan from both of them. 

When Harry finally comes, he does so in the middle of a delicious, filthy kiss with Draco’s name on his lips. They move apart and Harry reaches for Malfoy, arranging their sleeping bags around them both.

“I’ve been thinking…” Malfoy runs his fingers over Harry’s chest, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Sounds ominous. Not a new business venture, I hope.” Harry arches an eyebrow at Malfoy and tugs his hair lightly.

“No.” Malfoy brushes his lips to Harry’s neck. “Although the mugs were inspired.”

“Your idea?” 

“Oh. Well, it just seems like we’re shirking our duties by going home early. We’ve got nearly forty-eight hours of observing an empty Manor still to go.”

“True,” Harry muses. “I hate giving up.”

“Just imagine something happened and we’d abandoned our posts.”

“We’d never hear the end of it.” Harry shuffles further down into the sleeping bags and slides his hand around the back of Draco’s neck for a slow kiss. “Besides, there’s a lot that can happen in forty-eight hours.”

Malfoy slides his hand over Harry’s cock which is already starting to show an interest in proceedings again. He squeezes and the sensation of Malfoy’s cool fingers against his skin makes Harry gasp against Draco’s lips and buck up into his fist. 

“Has anyone ever spent forty-eight hours trying to make you come as many times as possible?” Malfoy brushes his lips to Harry’s jaw, his hand continuing its maddening stroking on Harry’s sensitive cock.

“No.” Harry’s words come out more breathless than he would ordinarily like. “Can’t say they have.”

“Well, then.” Malfoy pushes Harry onto his back and runs his tongue along the column of his throat. “You’re always so _tense_ , Potter. In the interests of establishing a more harmonious working relationship, I really think we should work on that.”

“Good idea.” As much as it pains Harry to say it, he couldn’t agree more.

_~Fin~_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] All the Best Ideas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9659597) by [fire_juggler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fire_juggler/pseuds/fire_juggler)




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